“Nothing has happened to me,” I said, “save that, like a young warhorse, I smell blood.
Have you forgotten my father was a soldier?”
Then I went out into the garden to find Louise.
Her concern at the news was greater than my own.
I took her hand and dragged her to the summerhouse beside the lawn. We sat there together, like conspirators.
“Your house isn’t fit to receive anyone,” she said at once, “let alone a woman like the contessa—like Mrs. Ashley.
You see, I can’t help calling her contessa too, it comes more naturally.
Why, Philip, there hasn’t been a woman staying there for twenty years.
What room will you put her in?
And think of the dust!
Not only upstairs but in the drawing room too.
I noticed it last week.”
“None of that matters,” I said impatiently.
“She can dust the place herself, if she minds so much.
The worse she finds it, the better pleased I shall be.
Let her know at last the happy carefree life we led, Ambrose and I.
Unlike that villa…”
“Oh, but you’re wrong,” exclaimed Louise.
“You don’t want to seem a boor, an ignoramus, like one of the hinds on the estate.
That would be putting yourself at a disadvantage before you even spoke to her.
You must remember she has lived on the continent all her life, has been used to great refinement, many servants—they say foreign ones are much better than ours—and she is certain to have brought a quantity of clothes, and jewels too, perhaps, besides Mr. Ashley’s things.
She will have heard so much about the house from him that she will expect something very fine, like her own villa.
And to have it all untidy, dusty, smelling like a kennel—why, you would not want her to find it so, Philip, for his sake, surely?”
God damn it, I was angry.
“What the devil do you mean,” I said, “by my house smelling like a kennel?
It’s a man’s house, plain and homely, and please God it always will be.
Neither Ambrose nor I went in for fancy furnishings and little ornaments on tables that come crashing to the ground if you brush your knee against them.”
She had the grace to look contrite, if not ashamed.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I did not mean to offend you.
You know I love your house, I have a great affection for it and always will.
But I can’t help saying what I think, as to the way it’s kept.
Nothing new for so long, no real warmth about it, and lacking—well, lacking comfort, if you’ll forgive that too.”
I thought of the bright trim parlor where she made my godfather sit of an evening, and I knew which I would prefer to have, and he too in all probability, faced with the choice of that and my library.
“All right,” I said, “forget my lack of comfort.
It suited Ambrose, and it suits me, and for the space of a few days—however long she chooses so to honor me with her presence—it can suit my cousin Rachel too.”
Louise shook her head at me.
“You’re quite incorrigible,” she said.
“If Mrs. Ashley is the woman I believe her to be she will take one look at the house and then seek refuge in St. Austell, or with us.”
“You’re very welcome,” I replied, “when I have done with her.”
Louise looked at me curiously.
“Will you really dare to question her?” she asked.
“Where will you begin?”
I shrugged my shoulders.
“I can’t say until I have seen her.
She’ll try to bluster her way out, I have no doubt. Or maybe make a great play of emotion, swoon and have hysterics.
That won’t worry me.
I shall watch her, and enjoy it.”
“I don’t think she will bluster,” said Louise, “nor have hysterics.
She will merely sweep into the house and take command.
Don’t forget, she must be used to giving orders.”